What's in a Name?
by Hand.O.Doom
Summary: How can a hero be summed up in three lines?  His crew is asking the same thing.  Now, trapped in an underwater base, he can't dodge the questions anymore.  Shepard must explain his past as his people face a crisis in the present.


**An Extended Stay**

"Four to seven days? That's the best you can do?"

"Sorry commander, with weather planet-side and the repairs Tali's working on for the shuttle, it's the best we can hope for." Joker's voice crackled and popped over the transmission, it's interference giving its own support of the pilot's statement.

Commander Shepard sighed at the fact that he knew Joker was right. The mission had been trouble from the start. Tali had been contacted by the Quarian migrant fleet and asked to look into reports of looters trying to break into a little known and abandoned research station floating on a mostly oceanic planet. Apparently there might or might not be certain information in the facility that may or may not have been left behind that could or could not be dangerous in the wrong hands. Shepard had been in the game long enough to translate the political double speak. Translation: trouble. The Quarians had been showing a great deal more respect to Tali and trust towards the specter ever since the events of the trial. Being the only trusted vessel in the vicinity when the automated distress beacon had been activated, the Normandy II had been contacted with the request.

Simple enough; land, chase off any salvagers, and wipe the databanks. Shepard hated missions like that. His luck never kept them simple. On the way down, the shuttle had malfunctioned. Under request/veiled order from Cerberus, the Normandy had taken on a new heavy shuttle designed for higher capacity and even outfitted with a few weapons. With two merc vessels spotted holding position at the station, Sheppard had opted to take the new vehicle in order to bring along a little extra firepower. The shuttle proved to be far more a prototype than he had been promised and a damaged control field in the mass effect core had led to a rough landing. Upon leaving the ship, they had come under immediate fire from Blood Pact mercenaries. Simple salvagers, easy job. Right. Clearing their way through the facility had been grueling but ultimately successful and with no casualties. Unfortunately, one of the merc ships had bugged out while the other was destroyed during the fighting, leaving their now useless shuttle the only way off station. Which, of course, was about to be hit by a seasonal and massive storm. Shepard knew that and had decided to risk the mission anyway, betting on landing and getting the job done before the weather got ugly. Now, however, the shuttle needed a few days work before functioning again and the storm would be on them by then. Simple mission. He hated those words.

"Understood Joker, keep me posted and keep an eye on the Normandy until I get back."

"Like a jealous boyfriend Captain," came the reply.

"More shore leave is in your future Jeff," Shepard added, "And you're leaving the ship this time. It's for your own good." The specter turned off his com in the middle of his pilot's grumbled reply.

Turning around to his away team, Sheppard called out, "Alright people, looks like we get an underwater vacation. Tali, get the landing bay ready for retraction, everyone else, help get the bodies overboard, the last thing we want is to be in a sealed environment with rotting corpses." The orders were met with a few groans but were followed. The crew of the Normandy began to push the bodies of the mercenaries into the sea from the edge of the floating landing pad. The facility itself was completely underwater, a little over a hundred feet below the surface of the ocean. The storms came often enough that the Quarians had seen fit to simply build their lab where the weather couldn't get it. The landing pad was connected to the facility and floated to the surface every time a new ship arrived. Hacking the access codes had been what had taken the mercs so long to get into the base. Being a covert facility, the Quarians hadn't skimped on the security. Sheppard wasn't impressed with the time it took the mercs. He wagered he could have gotten in within a few hours. After the work was done and Miranda had limped the shuttle into the proper hanger, Tali activated a sliding dome that covered the pad and the building began it's decent to the mother base along its massive retraction cables.

"I think I've got the name for our new shuttle, Commander," Jacob noted as the pair watched a steady stream of bubbles slide by one of the view ports.

"If this is a Titanic joke, you're fired Jacob," his superior warned.

The crewman smiled, "Actually, sir, I was thinking the _Nautilus_."

"Just call me Nemo."

* * *

><p>Laughter echoed down the dining hall. Gathered at one of over a dozen tables, the away team of the Normandy II ate its dinner, as close as MREs came to dinner at least. Luckily for them, most of the team was currently busy laughing instead of eating.<p>

"So there's Harkin, his face covered in what used to be his drink, his neck locked in Williams' hold, and Williams insisting that Alenko technically can't give her an order to let go because she was only following the order Sheppard gave her to help convince Harkin to help us," it was one of the few stories Garrus loved to tell and he was in rare form.

"Alenko gets frustrated as Harkin starts to turn blue and eventually gives this pleading look at the commander, who mind you hasn't said a word since Harkin was dumb enough to hit on Williams. Shepard nods and looks the gunnery chief right in the eye before pointing out that if she doesn't lift her elbow an inch or two, Harkin is going to loose consciousness," Grunt gave a rolling laugh and elbowed his warlord in the side.

Shepard only grinned at the eyes on him and added, "He wasn't giving us information if he was passed out on the floor, was he?"

"You seem to have the most creative ways of fulfilling objectives commander," Samara noted, not laughing, but her lips pulled back in an approving smile, "I would have simply threatened to break his neck."

"He should have taken one of his ears as a warning," Grunt rumbled as he took another bite from his third ration. Working with Wrex had taught Shepard to always bring extra.

The group had spent the last hour at the table, trading stories and doing their best to stave off the boredom. Even Jack had decided to at least be present, nursing one of her headaches with a small flask of something most likely thoroughly alcoholic. Normally, her commander wouldn't have tolerated it, but under the circumstances he was willing to look the other way.

After taking another swig of the desalinated water processed by the lab's facilities, Sheppard asked, "Alright then, how about you Samara? Hundreds of years is a long time to gather tales. Why not share one?"

"Why not share your own?" came a reply down the table.

All eyes turned to see Jack looking up from her drink, "Come on _commander_, you're always in our business, making us have an emotional circle jerk and that pussy crap. Why not tell us a little story about yourself?"

Sheppard just shrugged, "Alright, I could tell you about Liara's first trip to a club with Asari dancers. You'd think Asari couldn't blush, but-"

"Nah, enough about your old crew," Jack snapped, "tell us about before the Normandy." Sheppard shifted in his seat a bit, an uncommon action for the man. He didn't wear awkward that often.

"Compared to saving the galaxy, not much of the rest of my life is that exciting," the specter replied.

"Unlikely," Mordin broke in, his head jerking to look up from the food he'd been picking at, "Our past is the foundation of our present, our present the map of our future. To create a man such as yourself requires a fascinating foundation, ergo an interesting past."

"To be honest commander," Miranda spoke up, "Despite Jack's insubordination, I find myself curious as well. You never speak about your own life, before the military. The files Cerberus gathered from the alliance are surprisingly… sparse on the subject. N7 tends to do better background checks than that." That was enough to get the entire table staring at Sheppard. The man really had never described himself. He always seemed to have an openness when talking to them or acting as a leader, most of them hadn't realized that they knew next to nothing about him.

"Besides, there's got to be some kinda story behind those little tin parts of yours," Jack added as she took another draft of the flask.

"If commander Sheppard wishes to remain private Jack, that is his own choice," Tali said, "and you have no business commenting on-"

"You don't get to tell me my business bi-" the biotic tried to say.

"Enough," the command was calm, low, and left no room for argument.

Shepard rubbed his temples, his eyes closed, as he seemed to weigh things before sighing and looking back up, "You're right. You're my crew. If I expect you to trust me, I have to trust you. But, my story is kind of… complicated."

"We've got nothing but time commander," Jacob pointed out.

"Fine," the specter agreed, "Well, the first thing you should know is that I wasn't always named Joshua, or even Shepard."

* * *

><p>Saben waved over a waitress and ordered another drink. It was the Salarian's third before lunch. He didn't care. The curtain was pulled back from the booth as his company arrived.<p>

"Three drinks before lunch? I do hope I'm not the cause," an asari asked as she slid into the seat. Saben took a small enjoyment in watching her do it. Most salarians might look down on him for his interests, but he'd take any joy he could get at the moment.

"No," he replied, "I'm just drinking in celebration of my eminent death. I'm thinking of bringing in some streamers, hiring some dancers, maybe even one of those large human pastries, a cake they call it."

"You're a fount of optimism as always Saben," the woman smiled, "I need your help. I ran into some trouble."

"Really Libra?" Saben asked, "You? I think you might be exaggerating. I mean, it's not as if the entire city is loosing its mind over the top fifteen stories of a sky scraper exploding last night."

"Hey, that wasn't my fault," Libra shot back, "The damned batarian had to act the part of a super villain and blow the cursed place up after I shot him."

"I told you to aim for his head," Saben grumbled into his drink.

"I needed his pass code," the asari replied, "and I got it. No one who saw me is still breathing."

"So why are you still on planet and still providing a path back to me?" the salarian growled.

"Because his code got me the info, but not the unencrypted version," Libra explained, "Apparently, his superiors didn't trust him not to peek at what he was transporting."

"So break it on your ship," Saben snapped.

"No time. I lost my tech and decryption person recently; retirement," the asari answered, "That's why I needed his codes. I need this information Saben. That's why I came to the best connection man in the sector. You know someone. You always know someone." There was that smile. He knew it wasn't real. So few things she did were. But he didn't care. She knew and he knew that he couldn't say no to it… or to her money. Saben brought his hand up and rubbed the space between his head stalks as he thought.

"Price range?" he asked.

"Name it, I need the best and the quietest," came the answer.

Saben pondered that. No price tag? Not something seen much in this business. Everything had a price as far as he was concerned. Maybe not one he was always willing to pay, but it was there. For her to say something like that meant whatever he had helped her get came with an a price tag that was simply out of his league, and trouble to match.

"Alright," Saben eventually said, "I know a guy."

"You always do," Libra repeated as the smile grew.

"I charge twice my usual. This guy isn't someone whose name I just throw around. He hates that."

"Done."

Saben rubbed his thumb against the tips of his fingers.

Despite himself, he was getting excited, "His name is Oberon. Only one name like all those 'my work is an art' types use. I don't know what it means. It's an alien thing. Anyway, he's one of the best decryption guys there is. He does jobs for half the organized crime in the system, but he avoids work that violates any neutrality. He's a free agent. Probably why he hasn't made it off this rock yet. The guy started up about two years ago and anyone in the know goes to him for big rush jobs. I'll forward you his net address."

"Not an option," Libra shook her head, "This data can't leave my person. I meet him face to face."

Saben closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "He won't like that."

"So four times your cost?" the woman asked.

"…Five, I loose a lot of money if he drops me as a contractor."

"Done."

"Good, here's his address," the salarian's fingers danced on his omni-tool, "Can you leave now? The sooner the better."

"Always a pleasure Saben," Libra slithered her way out of the seat, largely for her companion's benefit, "Consider your tab on me."

"It already is."

* * *

><p>Cavus, Libra decided, was one of those planets that might as well be a hole in the galaxy. Overcrowded, polluted, crime infested, and just plain ugly, the planet was what most asari parents warned their child never to go to. And it was exactly the kind of planet Libra's work depended on. Originally a Volus colony, the planet had been bought, divided, and resold so quickly, no one was ever really sure just who had rights to build where. The result was rapid overexpansion followed by a financial collapse when the rumored mineral deposits didn't pan out. As the corporate money moved out, crime moved in and Cavus became just another stain on the galaxy, and also one of the best places to go to buy anything illegal, especially information.<p>

"Are you certain we can trust this one," Keim asked.

"Saben wouldn't recommend anyone we couldn't trust. He's got more sense than that," Libra told him as they walked, "Besides, with the amount the contact cost to make, he had better be good. Here we are." The two stopped at their destination, a small apartment in a run down complex. On any other planet, it would be in the bad part of town, but this was Cavus. Cavus _was_ the bad part of town.

"This is the home of the planet's best hacker?" Keim snorted, "It doesn't look like much."

"You'd be surprised," Libra argued, "The door looks normal, but look at the sheen of the metal and the design. Most likely, it's reinforced."

Keim nodded as he looked around, "No windows in the hall. No vantage points for shooters. Corner apartment prevents being hit from behind if they come from both sides. Clever. Whoever it is knows how to avoid trouble."

"Lets not give him any then," the asari said as she pressed a notification button to the side of the door.

After a moment, a small speaker clicked on above the button, "Yeah?" The voice was deep, obviously a distortion program.

Libra leaned in and said, "We have a mutual friend in a salarian named Saben. He gave me this address. I have business for you."

"He told me you were coming. I didn't like it," the voice replied, "Lots of people have business for me. What makes you different?"

"Consider my work a blank check," Libra said low into the mike, "provided no one ever knows you did it."

The com was silent for a moment before the voice spoke again, "Sounds like my kind of work. You can come in. The Turian stays out there."

"Not going to happen," Keim was quick to argue.

Libra ground her teeth, but replied, "I'm sorry, but I have to agree with my body guard. I can promise I mean you no harm but not much more."

"…Fine, but I'm considering it an expense. Try anything and it won't end well for you."

The door clicked and hissed before pulling to one side. Oberon stood on the other side of the threshold. Libra didn't see him until she lowered her view a bit however. At four and a half foot, Oberon wore overalls with an undershirt and boots, long, insulated gloves, and a pair of HUD-interface goggles covering half his face. He wasn't exactly to expectations.

Keim uttered a curse as he caught sight of him, "A human. We're working with a human brat."

"You can work on it yourself if you like and save me the trouble of smelling you slate-face, but I doubt you'd be here if you could," the boy shot back. Keim growled at the slur, but Libra cut him off.

"You'll pardon my companion's attitude," the asari raised her hand to silence the turian, "but you'll excuse me if your age makes me a bit… skeptical." Libra knew enough about humans to know this one was little more than in his early teens, a young age even for their race.

Oberon scowled at the comment and turned to walk inside, "This is why I do my jobs on the net. Saben sent you to me didn't he? He the type to screw his customers?"

"I suppose not," Libra admitted, "How long will this take?"

"Depends on the job. Can I see it?" the boy answered.

Libra reached beneath the vest she wore over her armor into a small pouch strapped to her torso beneath her arm. She withdrew a small plastic cube and handed it over.

Oberon turned and walked over to a desk against the wall. The rest of the wall was mostly covered with computer screens of varying shapes, sizes, and ages. Wires went left and right across the apartment to different machines. A tower here, a whirring and aged interface there, the entire place looked as if a junkyard had knitted itself together. The apartment was lit by the strange play of lights from a dozen display screens, most in a sleep mode involving a small black and white bird waddling across the screen. Libra assumed it was of human origin. The air smelled of ozone. The child placed the cube into a small input device that split the plastic in half, revealing a smaller cube of crystal beneath.

"Molecular writing," the boy pointed out as he stared at the process, "You stole this from someone with cash."

"What makes you think I stole it?" the asari replied.

"You don't break into your own files," the child snorted, "Puck, what is it?"

Next to the device was a small hologram projector. It sprang to life, humming as it did so, bringing into image a creature that looked for all intents and purposes like a human, from the waist up at least. Below that, however, was a pair of furred legs ending in hooves.

"Hmmm, big file boss," the creature piped up, "Even bigger encryption, get a look at this."

Oberon straitened and seemed to stare off into space. Libra realized he must have been using the HUD option of his goggles.

"Hmmm," the boy mused, "Heavy grade, just below military. Multiple layers most likely. Very interesting."

"Yeah, never seen anything like it," Puck pointed out, "Maybe if we – whoa, hello there." The VI's form immediately turned to Libra.

"You brought an _asari_ home boss? Nicely done. I was beginning to worry about you," the program then, somehow, emulated a whistle.

Keim grunted at the thing, "Such class."

"It is an interesting model," Libra admitted.

"It should be, I programmed it," the boy piped up as he worked.

"You programmed it to do that?" Libra asked.

"Nope," Oberon stated as he walked over to a console and began to type, "I don't know why he does that."

Keim's eye widened, "You're not telling me you have a-"

"No, it's strait VI," the child cut him off, "Just a… quirky one."

"Quirky?" the shimmering figure asked, "That's one of the kinder names you've called me. Are you that psyched about the work?"

"So you'll take the job?" the woman asked.

Oberon nodded, but didn't look at her, "It won't be cheap."

"How much?"

"Fifty," was the answer.

"For a single crack?" Keim sputtered, "That's robbery."

The boy shrugged, "Alright, sixty."

"That's higher damn it!"

"You insulted me," Oberon pointed out, "sixty or you find someone else." Keim clinched his fists, his knuckles popping.

"Sixty thousand is fine," Libra said before her companion could drive the price any higher, "How long?"

The boy didn't answer at first and the asari noted the fingers on his hands twitching, as if typing at an unseen keyboard.

"Eighteen hours… I think," Oberon eventually said, "depends on the algorithm for each level."

"You can break high grade encryption in eighteen hours?" Libra's eyes widened at the idea.

A corner of the boy's mouth twitched back in a ghost of a smile, "If they're dumb enough to use the same algorithm for each level, less." The asari was impressed. Her former tech expert would have taken significantly longer with top rate facilities.

"You can come back tomorrow," the boy waved them off, moving towards an overstuffed leather recliner that had seen better days.

"Not an option," his employer argued, "I go where the data goes."

Oberon turned around to glower at her, but the asari raised a hand and rubbed two fingers against her thumb, "For the price I'm paying, I like to think I can make some requests."

"Just keep quiet then," the boy grumbled, flopping into the chair. He pulled a lever and the furniture leaned back. The boy rested his arms on the chair's rests and his fingers began to twitch again.

Libra was tempted to ask him what he was doing but was stopped by the VI, "Sorry, but it's best not to bother him when he gets like this. There are drinks in the fridge if you want them. I doubt he'll itemize them. He keeps a few based on race for other business partners. Asari chilled teas and Turian whisky are options."

Keim clicked his mandible in distaste, "I didn't think he'd keep a _turian _drink."

Puck shook his head, "Boss doesn't hate turians, he just doesn't like… well, anybody."

"I'll have the tea thank you," Libra smiled, "Is there anywhere we can sit and not damage something?"

"The big guy keeps a few folding chairs in the closet," the VI replied, "Just don't go in the bedroom. He'll lose it if I let you in there."

A few hours later, Libra sat on the floor, her legs crossed and her eyes closed. A trio of ball bearings floated in front of her, forming a rotating triangle as she meditated. Keim rested on two of the chairs, safe in the knowledge that his partner was on watch. Oberon hadn't moved from his position in hours, his digits' movements and the soft squeaks of the gloves becoming as much background noise as the hum of the computers.

It was the ceasing of those sounds that got Libra's attention. Oberon's hands stopped moving and he muttered something softly, his VI replying that he was on it. Resetting the recliner, the boy leaned forward and stood up. He stretched and yawned before making his way to a small fridge embedded in the wall.

"Taking a break?" the asari asked, the ball bearings still continuing their dance.

"Finished with the first decryption algorithm," the boy replied as he retrieved a small container of soup from the fridge, "I analyze the file, create a counter program to break the encryption, then put it to work. We've got an hour or two while it removes the first layer."

Libra nodded, and her hand darted out to snatch the spheres. She deposited them in her vest and stood up.

"You are an interesting individual Oberon," she noted as she leaned back to pop her spine.

"That so?" the boy asked, returning to his chair with the soup and a drink.

"Yes," Libra continued, "I think you're the first human I've seen on Cavus."

"I'm probably the only one on Cavus," Oberon noted, slurping at some noodles.

"Exactly," the asari agreed, "What brings a human so far from Alliance space?"

Oberon raised an eyebrow at the question, "What brings a military grade asari commando and a turian gunman to my door?"

"You think I'm a commando?" the woman asked, no reaction on her face.

"What else?" the boy answered.

"I could be Eclipse," Libra suggested, "Trying to crack a file from a rival gang."

"Eclipse do mostly their own hacking," the child countered, "And they already have an account with me for emergencies. They wouldn't need Saben. You're not local. I know everyone in the community that can afford a job like this, and they know me."

"I could be outside crime looking for a piece of Cavus," the woman pointed out.

"No, you'd be dead already if that were true and you were dumb enough to say it so freely," Oberon shot back, "Soldat wouldn't put up with it. Not in her own back yard."

"Who's Soldat?" Libra asked.

"You don't want to meet her," the boy shook his head, "She's not the biggest name on Cavus, but she is the most dangerous. The few that are bigger don't go near her territory. Regardless, to throw around your kind of cash, with military grade tech like yours means you probably have government backing. Ergo, you're most likely an asari commando. We're close enough to your space."

Libra pulled back her lips in a smile. She'd enjoyed that. The boy was smart, attentive to detail. Talking to individuals like that was always a pleasure, and this was one of the few times she'd ever spoken to a human.

"You're not far off," the woman said, leaving it at that, "So, with my answer out of the way, what's yours? How did you end up with your skills at your age? And on Cavus no less. They don't exactly warm to humans in this sector."

Oberon gave a fierce smile, showing his canines but no mirth, "Make someone money and you'd be surprised what bigotries they're willing to look past."

Libra nodded, "And you?"

The smile faded, "I'm good at what I do. What else do you need to know?"

The asari bowed her head, "I was simply looking to learn more about humans. Your people fascinate me, but most of my work takes place far from your Alliance's space."

Oberon shrugged, "Not my Alliance. Besides, I'm not the guy to come to. You've probably seen more humans than I have. I've only ever seen the one in the mirror."

Libra gave a hmmm but let the matter drop. The boy finished his meal and left the room. Libra heard bed springs squeak and assumed he had left for a nap. The asari decided the same was in order and nudged Keim. Keim nodded, having never been asleep, and took his post.

As the asari settled into a corner of the room and laid her head against the wall, she heard the turian ask, "What are you getting at Libra?"

"What?" she asked, keeping her eyes closed.

"Never mind," Keim muttered, eyeing the small projector he'd seen the VI come out of.

* * *

><p>Seven hours later, Oberon stood in front of his screens, data running past most of them. According to the hacker, the idiots who had encrypted the data had indeed used similar algorithms on each of the two remaining levels. As Libra watched, one after another the screens stopped their scrolling text. As the last one finished, a large and cartoonish face smiled as it took up the majority of each screen.<p>

"Nicely done boss!" Puck piped up from his place on the desk.

"So you're finished?" the asari asked.

"Depends, do you have my money?" the boy replied.

"Give me an account," the woman said, her hand at her omni tool.

"That's what I like to hear," Oberon smirked, "Puck, send her a deposit address and download her data. We're done here." Puck didn't respond at first. A beeping sound began to go off on Keim's wrist.

The turian cursed and held his hand to his head, "What is it?"

"Uh, boss?" the VI finally piped up.

"What went wrong?" the boy groaned.

"Nothing on our end," the program held up its hands, "But our floor just got some unscheduled visitors."

Keim chose that moment to string together a few more colorful words in the turian tongue before getting Libra's attention, "The VI's right. We got confirmation from the shuttle a group of mercs is coming up the stairs. Thermal imaging shows them closing on both halls in less than a minute."

"Bloody hell," the asari hissed, "numbers?"

"Two dozen," Keim noted, "Blue Suns."

"What?" Oberon demanded.

"Options?" Libra asked, ignoring the boy.

"Get out, that's your damn option!" the child snapped, "I'm not with you. You don't bring your trouble to my home!"

"Best bet isn't to fight through them," Keim warned, unfolding a shotgun from his back.

"You think I care?" Oberon snarled, "You aren't my problem. Get. Out."

"Um, maybe not an option boss," Puck noted, his form quickly shifting to that of a security camera in one of the elevators, the room packed with more mercenaries.

A salarian with the mark of an officer was giving orders through a com link, "No, kill the hacker too. Orders are to salt the earth."

"Feth, feth, feth," the boy began to mutter running his hand through his hair, the Quarian curse rolling off his tongue naturally, "Puck, emergency download, wipe the drives as you go." The VI nodded and disappeared.

"What about my data?" Libra asked.

Oberon turned to glare at her, his bitter look somehow coming through the opaque goggles. He reached for the crystal cube, dropped it onto the floor, and crushed it under his boot.

"What the hell are you doing?" Keim shouted.

The boy just held up his arm, an omni tool's holographic display appearing around the glove, "In ten seconds, I have the only copy. You want it? You get me out of here."

With one arm, the turian snatched the boy up by the straps of his overalls, "You have no idea what that data is you little-"

"Keim!" Libra broke in, "We haven't got time for this! Get Sperling outside the building, we're pulling a leap of faith." Keim's eyes widened at the announcement, and he dropped the boy.

"Now!" the asari commanded, "I'll buy time, you wire the charges." The turian nodded and slung a pack from his shoulder, pulling a stack of small circular devices from one of the pouches. Libra closed her eyes and the space around her began to waver like air above concrete on a hot day.

Without opening her eyes, she paced towards the door, her hands beginning to become the focus of the whirling air currents, "Child, open the door when I say so."

Oberon snapped himself from his staring at the asari and rushed to the control console. The air began to settle around Libra except for her hands, which were beginning to glow with a fey blue light.

"Now!" she shouted, and the door flew to the side. Throwing herself into the hall, two different groups of mercenaries saw the asari put her arms at a ninety degree angle, pointing at the lead elements of each.

As Libra's eyes opened, the same light shown from them as she smiled, "Coming at me through bottlenecks. Amateurs." Space seemed to bend at the tips of her fingers. Light distorted as if being diffracted through water. Twin domes of the anomaly expanded to fill each hall as they rapidly approached the hired guns. Cracks appeared in the plaster of the halls as the mass effect fields passed. The turian in the lead of one group was struck hard enough to throw him back into his squad mates, breaking multiple ribs and his arm, dislocating his jaw as his weapon was forced back into his face. The salarian leading the other charge didn't fare as well, the field easily breaking his neck and a number of other bones as it hurled him back. The fields dissipated in strength, but left the respective groups in tangled masses on the floor. More rounded the corners and raised their guns to fire over their comrades. That was, until the firefighting systems above them began to spray the area with extinguishing gas. Confused shouts were heard and random fire flashed in the clouds as Libra pulled herself back into the room, the door sealing behind her. She turned to see Oberon typing at his omni tool.

The boy shrugged "What? I can't help?"

"Keim, are you ready?" Libra called as the door began to rattle with a steady flow of small arms fire. The turian finished placing the last of the devices against the wall, having torn down a number of the monitors to do so.

"Linking the devices now," he answered, running his fingers over the glowing interface on his wrist, "Get to cover."

"What's he doing?" Oberon asked before flinching at a particularly loud detonation against the door.

"We're blowing a hole in the wall and taking a shuttle out of here," Libra explained as she grabbed the boy and pulled him toward the bedroom.

"Wait, Puck hasn't finished downloading," the hacker argued, "We can't leave yet." Libra yanked the boy inside the bedroom. It wasn't until that moment that she actually looked at where she was taking the boy.

"Child," she asked, her eyes panning wide over the room, "What is this?"

Her only answer was Keim rushing in after them, slamming the door and yelling, "Making a door!"

The apartment shook as the breach charges in the other room went off, directing the blast against the wall and ripping a large enough hole for the trio to leap through. Snapped out of her distraction, Libra followed Keim as he kicked the door back, once again with Oberon being dragged behind her.

"Stop," the boy shouted, "Just a few more seconds!" A shadow eclipsed the new hole as a crimson shuttle came to a hover next to the apartment. The side panel lifted up, beckoning the group's escape.

"No time," Keim called, running and leaping the few feet into the carrier, immediately manning the mounted weapon next to the door.

"I'm not leaving him!" Oberon snarled, twisting his arm from Libra's grip and rushing to the panel. A chime was heard from one of the consuls and a small black rectangle was spit out from an interface. The boy snatched it up and stuffed it into a pocket. That was when the rocket hit the door. For all the money the boy had spent on the thing, the door hadn't been built quite that well. It peeled open like paper, the blast scattering everyone in the room and pushing the shuttle back from the building to wobble as it stabilized.

Libra opened her eyes and realized she'd blacked out for a moment. A persistent ring was the only sound she could hear. Shaking her head, fuzzy sounds began to filter back into her mind. She heard the constant gunfire trying to spill in through the breach in the door. Behind her, Keim was using every curse he knew, and he knew quite a few, to get Sperling to realign the shuttle. Looking to where Oberon had been, the woman found him against the wall opposite the door, his head falling limply onto his chest. Scrambling on her hands and knees to the child, Libra lifted his head to see a miniscule hole in his goggles, a web of cracks spreading across the plastic. The asari's heart was in her throat. She checked for a pulse and found one. She heard Keim open up on the doorway. The first merc to be dumb enough to look through the hole lost his head and his upper torso to the heavy machine gun rounds.

"Let's go Libra!" he bellowed as he kept fire up on the door.

"I'm getting the boy!" she shouted back, carefully slinging Oberon over her shoulders, she grunted in effort to lift him. He was a great deal heavier than his frame gave away. Her body screaming at her in pain, the asari ignored it and made her way to the hole. A more solid field of energy congealed around her and the child as she put up a barrier. Picking up speed, she hit the threshold and pushed off, the dust beneath her feet flaring up as she used another field to propel herself into the shuttle. Tumbling into the bay of the craft, Libra choked out the order to go. The door sealed shut behind her, fire rippling off of the hull as the pilot pulled the shuttle away, accelerating as fast as he could away from the mess behind them.

Breathing hard, Libra could hear Keim chuckling as he leaned against the wall, "Sperling says no one's following us. Nicely done my fearless _Centurio_."

Catching her breath, Libra remembered the boy and called to the cockpit, "Anima, I need you back here." A door opened, and an asari in pale robes made her way back.

"I thought you might Libra," she said, reaching for the satchel at her side, "Are you or Keim injured?"

Libra waved her hand away as the second Asari reached for her face, "Not as much as our guest, look him over." Anima nodded and moved to the boy as Keim rolled him over.

She let out a small gasp, "A human?"

"I thought you knew human physiology," Libra said.

"I do, technically," Anima replied, "But I've never practiced. I certainly didn't expect one on Cavus."

"Well consider this a crash course," the medic's commander stated.

"Might not be the best term Libra," Keim grumbled.

Anima ignored him and began her examination. Oberon had blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead, and the wound was still bleeding.

Lifting the boy's head, Anima reached for the damaged goggles, "I need to get a look at his eyes to see if they're damaged." Pulling them back, she almost dropped him.

"By the Goddess," Anima muttered.

Keim's brow shot up, "He doesn't have any." Flat, red lenses stared blankly up at the world from where the boy's eyes should have been. The implants were circular and extended just beyond child's brow. A thin layer of scar tissue ringed the prosthetic eyes, old and pale compared to the rest of the skin. One of the lenses was cracked, a shard of metal embedded in it, probably from the deceased door.

Anima shook herself and said, "Well, that complicates things. I'll need to check a few other matters then." Disinfecting and smearing a sealant over the wound on Oberon's forehead, Anima checked his head for any more damage. She wasn't happy when she found a lump on the back of the boy's skull.

"Keim, help me get some of his clothes off," the asari ordered, "I need to check for further wounds. Start with his gloves." Carefully, the doctor pulled Oberon's right glove free, and found plastic underneath. The thin mechanical limb was a mat grey color. The fingers were long and insinuated dexterity.

"Crap doc, we're zero for two," Keim muttered, "Do him a favor and keep your examination above the waste."

"Keim!" Libra snapped, "Help or shut up. Anima, can you wake him and save us some trouble?"

"Is that for a medical purpose or a business one?" the second asari replied.

Libra let the briefest hint of a scowl cross her features before calmly answering, "Get him awake if you can do it safely. I'll make it an order if it helps."

Anima shook her head and began to search through her satchel, "Any direct drug is a bad idea. I picked these up as an oddity from a Systems Alliance medical cruiser I crossed paths with a few years ago. I thought them a joke, but apparently they work on humans. Here they are." The medic produced a small, glass bottle. After shaking it, Anima removed the lid and had Keim gently lift Oberon's body forward. The asari wafted the upturned lid just beneath the boy's nostrils. Oberon's nose scrunched up at first before he jerked and pulled himself back from the smell. The hacker snorted and coughed a bit as he tried to lean forward.

Anima stopped him, "Don't try to move, you could be injured. You're safe, just calm down."

"Where the hell am I?" the child demanded.

"Among friends," Anima told him before looking to her compatriots, "I assume."

"We'll be friends when we get the data," Libra corrected her.

"Friends don't get friends' apartments blown up!" Oberon snarled as he tried to struggle free of Keim.

"Please, lay down," Anima said, leaving no room for argument, "I do not know the full extent of your wounds."

"You're paying for the apartment… and my equipment," The boy grumbled out a continuous list, but allowed them to lay him back onto the floor.

Keim looked about ready to argue, but Anima stopped him with a strict look.

"I need you to tell me how you're feeling, young man," the medic asked as she pulled a small loop of wire about as wide as her hand from her pack and attached it to her omni tool. With the device beneath her palm, Anima moved her hand over the boy's chest, watching the neon readout that appeared on her wrist.

"How do you think?" Oberon asked, "My head's killing me, and my chest is aching. My neck too. Oh, and my fething apartment is demolished."

The medic listened as she read her display, "No internal bleeding in your chest cavity. You've pulled a muscle in your neck. How are your eyes?" Oberon's hand flew to his face as if just realizing his goggles were gone. He then noticed his uncovered hand, and the corners of his mouth pulled down in a scowl.

"My right eye is offline," the boy pointed out, "But the left is functioning. Add it to the bill."

"You want the goggles paid for too?" Keim sneered.

Oberon snorted, "The goggles do nothing."

Anima's hand swept over the boy's head. The asari's face twisted for a moment as she contemplated what she saw.

"No concussion," she eventually noted, the look fading, "You'll need rest and ice for the swelling." Anima checked the boy's waist and moved to inspect his legs. Her hand was caught by Oberon's prosthetic.

"Let me save you the time," the boy grumbled, "I'm fine."

"A-also artificial?" the medic asked. She'd seen many things for her age, but a child in this state…

"I got to keep the right one to just below the knee, but otherwise, yeah. My left arm makes a matching set," the boy let her hand go, "Can I sit up now?"

"Yes," Anima said, "but lean against the bulkhead and don't try to stand. Libra, if you'll allow, I'd like to look you and Keim over." Libra nodded and Anima got to work.

As her medic patched up a stray cut on her shoulder, Libra looked over at Oberon who was typing at the omni tool inlaid into his arm. The sight she'd seen in his room, the disturbing rows of prosthesis parts and frames, made sense now. She considered the feeling in her gut, the growing desire to do something, anything for this boy. The asari put the thoughts aside.

More important things were at hand, "I need the data Oberon."

The human didn't look up, "Yeah, well I need a new home. Trade you?"

"I cannot pay you that amount at the moment. With time, I can secure you the-"

"No, pay me or you get nothing," the boy snapped, "I could give a damn what you're doing on my planet, but you play by our rules. Pay. Up. Front."

Keim slammed his fist against the wall a foot from the boy's skull. The cabin reverberated with the blow.

"You don't even begin to know what that information means," the Turian snarled.

Oberon didn't flinch as he held up his arm, an omni-tool interface casting an orange glow across the shuttle's interior, "And neither will you if you don't pay me. At my command or if my life signs go negative, the data wipes." Keim looked ready to tear the computer from the boy's arm when Libra stopped him.

She didn't sound angry, or frustrated. Libra spoke like she was describing fact and nothing more, "We aren't going to murder you Oberon, but we do need that data as well as some other services. It would be in your best interests to aid us."

"How do you figure that?" the boy asked.

"However it came to be, the reality is that you now have a bounty on your head along with the rest of us," Libra stared the boy in the eye, her gaze unwavering, "They will hound you so long as you are a threat, and the virtue of your connection to us makes you one."

"I don't know what's in your data," Oberon countered, "I make that a point of my work and people know that. It's how freelancers operate."

"This kind of aggression may seem excessive, and if their names come out, they may get a bad mark in the sector. Unfortunately, it is a very large Galaxy, and one bad tally, one dead hacker, means little in the long run," the asari's voice was chilling in its lack of feeling, "I'm making you an offer. Get us off planet, and we take you with us. You disappear on another backwater or wherever you please with compensation for your troubles. Perhaps, after we settle things and those that placed the bounty are gone, you can return if you wish." Oberon was silent at the explanation.

He bit his lip as his brow furrowed, "You're a real bitch you know that?"

"I am what my mission and the lives of those at stake require," Libra stated, "And I am your best option. I am your only option." The child ran his fingers through his hair and stared at his knees. Libra watched as his ungloved fingers ticked against his thumb, a nervous habit perhaps.

Oberon gave a grim half-smile, "You flatter yourself, but if you can get me off planet, I'll help. Then you pay me. Then you get your info. Then you get out of my life. So what do you need from me?"

"A connection. I suspect my previous one has been compromised," Libra answered.

Oberon began typing at his omni-tool, "Saben's better than that. They probably got you through something else."

"Regardless, I need someone who can smuggle us to the next system over," the asari explained, smirking as Keim hissed at Anima for setting a broken finger, "We snuck here without our own ship. Our target was watching for it. With our cover blown, we can't trust the flight out we had set up."

"So you want me to arrange protection, and personnel smuggling with professional mercenaries on our backs on the IOU system?" Oberon glowered at the idea.

"Can you do it?" Libra raised an eyebrow, "I thought you knew your clientele."

"Oh, I can do it," Oberon shot back, "But it won't be cheap and you probably won't like where we're going."

"Understood," Libra nodded, "Give me the coordinates and tell me who we're going to."

The boy tapped his wrist and Libra's omni-tool beeped, "Done, but you need to follow a few rules when we get there. Speak when spoken to. Do not make demands. If she says no, we look elsewhere. Do not haggle. Do not threaten her. And do NOT try to betray her."

"A bit overdramatic aren't we?" Libra smirked.

Oberon shook his head, "I didn't make the rules, the idiots that died to prove them did. Seriously, she has a thing for respect. Show it or shoot yourself now. Soldat will do worse to you otherwise."


End file.
